Chapter 4: The Rakshasa’s Heart

Note: Thanks to B0b for beta reading this!

Princess Malakisha – Ankush, The Queendom of Naith

I strode through the corridors of the Ziggurat, my men at my back, armed, armored. Death was in the air. The future promised blood and violence. My nipples were hard as my purple sari whisked against my thighs. Juices dribbled down my legs. My heart, my dear Lucy, marched at my side, naked and unashamed, her light-brown hair bouncing about her shoulders.

She smelled excited, too. Eager. She was ready to witness me seize the Queendom, to proclaim my strength before my sisters and cousins, my aunts and nieces. I would claim the bloody throne and make it mine.

I just had to kill Rushina and Kushini. I’d spill so much blood. I licked my chops, my whiskers twitching in anticipation.

Slaves gasped as they saw us, scurrying into the darkness. They knew better than to be around the royals when they “flexed claws.” Family politics were so savage in the Ziggurat. It honed you into strength, into dominance. It kept you alert.

It spiced life, made you appreciate what you had.

I was glad Lucy was with me. I was glad I had her support and love. My heart marched at my side. My men trooped at my back. Bakiir strode in their lead. He would carve my way to the throne. I would lose men tonight. Maybe even Bakiir.

But they all could die so long as I gained the prize.

Kushini appeared ahead, rounding the corner. She didn’t wear a sari but her leather pants. She left both her tits bared, her right nipple pierced by the same gold ring that I had. Her hips swayed, her sword swinging at her side.

Pathetic.

Her men moved up behind her.

“So you had the courage after all, Malakisha,” she purred.

I inclined my head, not bothering to even acknowledge the insult. “Shall we pay call to your dear mother.”

Kushini licked her chops. She was excited, both nipples hard, her whiskers quivering. “I am so eager to see her tonight. I am such a dutiful daughter.”

My purr rose in my throat as I turned, nodding to my ebony slave.

Bakiir strolled forward, barking orders at Kushini’s slaves. They obeyed. The men broke into a trot, rushing past Kushini, Lucy, and me as they pounded through the corridors. We followed after, the men’s gear jingling as they raced up the stairs to the pinnacle of the Ziggurat where Rushina waited in the throne room, surrounded by those whorish women she thought would protect her.

“Soon, you’ll be queen,” I purred to Kushini. For all of a few heartbeats.

Her hand played with the hilt of her sword. For a moment, a fear swelled in me. Would she try to kill me in such a ... direct manner? No. Not even Kushini was so crass as to try that. And if she thought I was defenseless, she was mistaken.

I would tear her throat out, sword or no sword.

My sari whisked as we hurried up the stairs after our men. My ears were pricked forward, listening for the tell-tale sounds of combat. A woman let out a warning cry, the chieftess of Rushina’s bodyguard. She thought buying female slaves and training them to fight would give her a larger guard since they were cheaper than purchasing gladiators.

But no woman, no matter how skilled, could match my slaves. They were big, brawny men. Size and reach made far more of a difference in combat than dexterity and practice. Especially with how honed my men were at combat, equally as adept as Rushina’s whore-guards.

Blood scented the air.

We hurried faster, arousal bleeding off my cousin. We gained the top of the stairs, bursting out on the antechamber before the throne room. Crimson slicked the floor. Swords rang on sword. Women were on the ground, bleeding, groaning, limbs severed as our slaves pressed forward, Bakiir at the lead.

He was a god. He carved through the women, laying into them with his mighty sweeps of his sword. He reached the doors, throwing them open onto the throne room and running another guardswoman through the throat.

The slave fell screaming off his blade.

Blood soaked into my sandals and my socks as we walked through the antechamber, Lucy’s bare feet padding on the sticky blood. Kushini’s and my slave-soldiers were pressing into the throne room. Rushina rose from where she knelt naked. The older rakshasa stood with imperial grace as she faced the carnage, watching her female guards being butchered.

There were many of the sluts. They pressed in on my men.

Henyak went down, a sword through his gut. He fell onto his hands and knees, struggling to rise. A trident wielded by a wild-eyed, Tuathan slave-guard rammed into his back, driving him into the floor. Thushin took a hard swing on his neck. The blade cut deep, his head held on only by his spine. Blood spurted as my slave crashed dead to the floor.

Rushina watched it all with stoic courage as Bakiir slew her guards. My slaves hacked and slashed. Issanik sword took a woman in the stomach, spilling her bowels like blue ropes across the ground. Blood streamed from a cut down his back, but he kept fighting.

Kushini and I strolled forward in the wake of our men. The dwindling female guards fell back to their mistress, collapsing into a shrinking ring about her. Bakiir growled his orders, swinging his sword over his head, rallying the men.

I stepped over Nathan, Kushini’s slave, bleeding from a his thigh, his eyes rolled back into his head. A stab of satisfaction shot through Lucy’s scent as she stepped over him in as she trailed behind me.

“Daughter,” Rushina said.

“Mother,” Kushini purred, her arousal so strong now. I bet she was aching to fuck one of her guards right here on the bloody floor, to roll in the gore as she writhed in passion.

“And dear Malakisha.”

“Noble aunt,” I nodded, giving the heir due respect for her poise.

Bakiir’s sword stabbed into the guts of the only slave-soldier between him and Rushina. The woman screamed in pain, blood bubbling from her lips. He kicked her off his weapon and drew back his sword to strike down my aunt.

Rushina lifted her tiger head, exposing her throat. Accepted that she had lost.

I tensed. Here came the betrayal.

Kushini moved faster than I expected. The rakshasa sprang forward, snarling out in rage. Her sword sang as it slid from her scabbard. The sound reached Bakiir’s ears. He turned to defend himself.

Kushini’s sword slammed through his chest. She’d closed the distance so fast. My favorite slave, the only man I had found worthy enough to breed my daughter, died, his heart destroyed by Kushini’s expert thrust.

His sword fell from suddenly limp fingers. His eyes found mine. I saw it in his eyes. Shock. Failure. He had wanted to please me.

I would miss him. But his death was worth this sacrifice.

Issanik cursed, his sword taking one of Kushini’s slaves in the neck before a spear wielded slammed into his belly. My men, who had led the charge with Bakiir, had taken the worst of the wounds dispatching Rushina’s whore-guards. Now Kushini’s men hit them from behind, running them through, butchering all the slaves I had spent years cultivating.

My heart hammered in my throat. This was it. This was the moment. I glanced at Lucy, saw the smile playing on her lips. She gave me a subtle nod of her head then screamed out, “Treachery! You betrayed my Mistress!”

Her words were loud, piercing, reaching through the corridors.

Kushini yanked her bloody sword from Bakiir’s body. He slumped to the floor, arms spread limp, blood pooling across his ebony flesh. I watched Kushini step over his body, approaching her mother. My men were all dead now. Two-thirds of Kushini’s also. But that still gave her five men, their weapons all prepared to cut down Rushina as they ringed her.

“Well, daughter, very well played,” Rushina said, pride in her voice. Any mother would be so thrilled to see a daughter grown strong.

And then something I hadn’t expected happened. Kushini knelt before her mother and said, “Malakisha wanted to kill you, Mother. But I heard about the plot in time to act and came to your rescue.”

Rushina’s ears twitched. The shock was clear. Her head cocked, looking around, trying to figure out her daughter’s game. “What a ... loyal daughter you are, Kushini. Kill your cousin for her treason.”

“Gladly,” Kushini purred. A shudder ran through her. She rose and turned to face me, Bakiir’s blood dripping from her sword. Her men fanned out. They had expected this. They advanced.

Lucy bent down, snagging a dagger from a fallen woman. She tensed on the balls of her feet. I faced my cousin, my heart pounding. Fear twisted through my stomach. My ears pricked. Where were they?

“Yes, you thought to stab me in the back after I killed my mother,” Kushini said, advancing on the balls of her bare feet, slicked by blood. “You thought you could use me to kill my own mother.”

“And you thought to use me, too,” I shrugged. If this was my death, I would face it with all the grace and dignity of my station in the world. “Though I’m shocked. Too scared to take the throne for yourself?”

“Oh, I have the throne,” she purred. “Mother will need me to protect her. I’ll whisper in her ear. She’ll do whatever I say while she draws the assassins. Not me.”

I inclined my head. “Well played.”

Armor jingled. Boots thumped. Louder.

“But, I am afraid, I knew of your treachery,” I continued.

“Because your little whore told you.” Kushini let out a growling laughter. “Everyone in the Ziggurat knows you love her, Malakisha. That you are so weak you love a human female. We all laugh at you behind your back. You think you’re so smart, so cunning, that you’ve hidden it so well even though you take that little strumpet with you everywhere. We all know you use her to spy on us.”

The words stung. I didn’t care. “So what if you know she’s my heart,” I said. “She’s the reason I’ll be queen.”

“Oh, how?” Kushini asked.

The boot steps thundered louder.

“Don’t you hear your death coming, cousin?” I asked.

Men burst into the throne room behind me. Kushini froze, her ears flicking as she witnessed the royal guards of dead Queen Adroyna, led by Konayveh, surge into the room. Ten of them, all brawny, all strong, and all mine.

“I made arrangements,” I said as they rushed charged past me at her men. “Lucy won me their hearts.”

It was such a wonderful moment to see Kushini raise her sword to parry Konayveh’s brutal swing. The other royal guards crashed into her men. The fight was brutal, swift. Rushina, who’d been standing strong, now flinched back. She had come to the realization she was about to die, been spared, and now faced it again. The whiplash was too much for her poise to withstand.

She cracked, proving her weak. Unworthy to hold the throne.

I licked my chops, watching the work.

Kushini’s fenced with skill. She blocked and parried Konayveh’s powerful thrusts while her men died behind her. The five were outnumbered. They killed three of Konayveh’s men before the last fell dead.

Rushina screamed as they advanced on her. She grabbed something from a pocket of her sari, a vial of something white.

Of cum.

My ears pricked in shock. She downed it as Konayveh’s six men advanced on her with weapons.